Dream Catch Me
by Junkyxl
Summary: He can feel his heart pounding with every step he takes, so it must be right, but just to make sure, he reaches up and puts his hand on her heart.


**Dream Catch Me **

"I didn't know."

But he did.

"You say you don't love her."

But he does.

"It's over."

And it is.

_ But it is us I see  
__And I cannot believe I'm falling  
Dream catch me when I fall  
_

He watches her walk away, the picture of her little frame covered in chocolate colored hair echoing in the hallway long after the doors fall close. He stands there for a while, his eyes unfocused and gazing at something even he's not sure is there, but then his fists clench and his eyes squeeze shut, and for a moment he has to fight not to shudder, not to fall apart right there, because suddenly his heart is breaking and a wave of nausea hits him before he can think about it. He gulps the pain away, a bitter taste in his throat, and his eyes open to a whole new world. He sees the cracks in the walls and imagines blood running out of them, slowly enveloping the broken white color.

A harsh sound penetrates his ears, the shockwave hitting his eardrum and sending a jolt through him. It wakes him up, sends him spiraling out of the hallway, down the stairs and into the gym. He's shooting hoop after hoop before he knows it, missing every single one of them, but not giving a damn. He wonders briefly if his father is still there, but he dismisses the whole concept of thinking and instead goes back to aimlessly shooting hoops. The basket transforms into his heart, and with every shot he misses he's one step further from healing the pieces. He watches as he scores one shot, and he feels a weird emotion settle over him, almost hardening him, and he wonders if this is what a broken heart feels like.

He can't feel his heart anymore, but then he never could before either. There's a strong suspicion in his mind that he can't ignore, and he has to go now, he has to go, or he'll never find closure and he'll fall apart right then and there. His feet are moving, leaving his head behind, hoping against hope that maybe his heart will stay there too, but it goes along with him with every step he takes.

He pushes the doors open, and for one brief moment, when he sniffed the air and felt the breeze, he thinks he might be okay, but then that freshness is gone and the light the sun is providing him with seems to be blinding him. He holds his hand up, squeezes his eyes, furrows his eyebrows, but the blinding light continues to scorch him, as if searching for that one spot where he stores all of his pain. He strides along more swiftly, not caring that his jeans are hanging low, that he's walking barefoot or that his shirt is unbuttoned. She caught him by surprise, took a stake through his heart without warning him, and he's suddenly bitter, at her, at him, at everyone.

He can't think straight, but as he sits in the car, there's a short moment where concern manages to break through and ask him if he can drive in this state of mind, but he slams the feeling away, just like he always does, and instead he drifts into the valley of numbness, happy for the moment to be on auto-pilot so that he won't crash into anyone. He doesn't want to feel anything, but he needs to know one thing, one thing and he can live on. It can break or make him, but he doesn't care, he needs to know.

He arrives at her place quickly, probably having sped his way through the city, but he can't remember, and he can't remember if that's a good or a bad thing, but he needs to know so he doesn't care and he's almost there, and does the door look massive or is it just him? He rings the doorbell, hearing its, indeed, massive sound echo throughout the enormous house. He wonders if they've always lived that way or if he just never cared, either way he's trembling from head to toe, suddenly freezing to death on that doorstep, or maybe it's from fear, he doesn't know, so he shakes his shaggy brown mop and continues staring at the wooden frame.

The door opens and he sees a flash of blonde hair and brown eyes and decides that that's enough before storming into the house, closing the door, taking her arm and throwing her, albeit gently, against the door. Her eyes are wide from surprise, not fear, but he's too far gone, because he can see the truth already shining in her eyes. She looks down and it crosses his mind that he's almost shirtless, but he doesn't mind, because he actually kind of likes the look in her eyes, even though he's almost certain there's a large gash on the left side of his chest with blood seeping out of it. For a moment he even feels it flowing down, but he looks and there's nothing there.

She shivers under his touch, and he looks up and finds that his hand has crept up behind her and is tangling in her hair, slowly and softly pulling her head back so that she's in just the right position. He licks his lips unconsciously and she's trembling from the too innocent look in his eyes. He's like a little boy, experimenting with another person, and his touches are so innocent and she can't stand it, and time is moving so fast, so she stops and the finger he was trailing across her cheek stops too, and suddenly he's on the other side of the room. They're miles apart and he's confused, but she knows, she's always known, and his body stiffens.

Time stops and he looks at her. She lets him, knowing he needs his time, because he's confused right now. He looks into her eyes, seeing the different emotions there, swirling around and waiting to connect with him. He takes a slow step forward, feeling a slight sting in his heart, but he knows it's the right kind of sting. He wonders if maybe this was what he needed to do all along, and he doesn't push the thought away. It stays in his mind, even while traveling oh so slow towards her, and though he's walking, he doesn't seem to be coming any closer. He's falling and he doesn't know how the catch himself, and maybe the ground has sharp objects because he doesn't want to fall, and the room stretches out so far, but then she nods her head a little, just a small move, and he smiles hesitantly. She smiles back, no malice in her eyes, and the room spins and spins until he's right in front of her, and the sight of her brings the room to a screeching halt.

She's holding her arm out and he looks at her outstretched fingers for a moment, still wearing a confused expression on his face, but it's not the panic kind, so he slips his hand into hers, and maybe she's trying to catch him, but he's still not sure if he wants to fall. He intertwines their fingers though, making the decision without his brain's consent, and then she's guiding him upwards, slowly walking up the stairs. He likes the pace, takes comfort in it to know that she's not pushing him towards anything, and though his mind has still not caught up, because it's probably still hanging somewhere around the gym, he knows that this is right, because his heart says so.

He can feel his heart pounding with every step he takes, so it must be right, but just to make sure, he reaches up and puts his hand on her heart. He feels her take in a sharp breath, but no cutting remark comes, and he's grateful, because he's vulnerable right now. Her heartbeat had been beating the same way as his, but now it's speeding up and he allows himself to smirk lightly. She catches the look and suddenly they fit, their personalities are how they are supposed to be, and maybe his mind has caught up with him, but he's sure now, because he heard that click.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice thundering down the quiet halls. Her house is huge and he thinks that maybe she should draw him a map that says 'you are here', because he's not sure he'll ever get out, but finds it fitting nonetheless. She guides him to a room all the way down the hall, something he'd find puzzling when she'd be in her princess-mode, because wouldn't she like to be the center of attention? Though, it's normal to him now, he's seen a whole new side of her, but maybe it's always been there and he's never noticed, either way, he likes the change and doesn't care much to think about it any more.

She opens the door without any dramatics, but the room still catches him by surprise. It's fluffy and warm, but not too warm, it's a mixture of things he wouldn't expect and things he would expect to be in her room. He doesn't think about it too long, though, because the mood hasn't changed since they'd been downstairs, and she's lying on the bed with him on top of her before he knows it. Her dark orbs are staring up at him, softly daring him to be the first one to act, and he does.

He reaches out a finger and slowly drags it across her cheek again, a look of wonder in his eyes. She wonders what he's thinking about, but his finger continues its path, and he's slowly trailing it along her neck, on her nose, her collarbone, and he pushes a lock of hair behind her ears. The electric charge in the air is almost gone, it's sizzling out and she feels like she should create a powershock to enlighten it and so she kisses him, hungrily, lustfully, and he opens his mouth, so she pushes her tongue in to battle with his, and she moans, because she never expected him to be so good. His hands slip to her sides and he holds her, feels the way her back arches into him as a groan escapes his lips. She swallows the sound, fists gripping his shirt, and she moves so she's on top.

He pulls back slightly, and she takes the hint and stretches up. Her eyes open and she catches him staring at her with a new look in his eyes, and she can almost see her reflection in them, the way her cheeks are flushed and her eyes dulled by pleasure. He looks certain, his tongue is tracing his lips again, and he leans up to kiss her one last time, pulling on her bottom lip with his teeth as he pulls away, before rolling her over so she's lying half on top of him and half on the bed. He laughs softly at the look of disappointment in his eyes, but he pulls the covers over them and watches as she snuggles into him. He figures she's disappointed but happy, it's what he's feeling right now, because he's tired all of a sudden and he wants nothing more than to rest with her, so he watches the top of her head, trails his fingers through her long blond hair and closes his eyes in content.

He knows she must be asleep, because her breathing has evened out a while ago, and he turns and twists until he can get a good look at her, and he suddenly thinks that maybe he's ready to fall. He feels that same awe envelope him, and wonders how he could've missed this for the longest time and so he whispers "I love you" but then his eyes fall shut on their own accord, and he sees blonde instead of the usual black, and the next morning he can't see the cracks in the walls anymore, there's only the perfect white and that one pink locker.

_And I cannot believe I'm falling  
Dream catch me yeah  
_


End file.
